


Don't Give Up on Me

by AcidFreePad



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2187987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcidFreePad/pseuds/AcidFreePad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So many people had been at her mercy, men, women, children.<br/>Those days were behind her now, but still apart of her. She’d been able to reconcile with who she’d been. Some nights were hard. Her past was a difficult thing to relive, but somehow, she knew she could never shake it.<br/>And now, with him here, how could she even try?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Give Up on Me

**Author's Note:**

> Technically, this story's a combination of the MCU and comic canon, because Bucky and Natasha's past together wasn't mentioned in the movies.

 

_Looking up at the stars, I know quite well_

_that, for all they care, I can go to hell._

        Natasha’s fingers tapped quietly on the hard teakwood surface of Steve’s table. She had thought of ways this day could go before, she was anxious. Like him, her memories had been tampered with. At one point, she didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. It was frustrating in a tear-your-hair-out way, the anguish felt never ending and it seemed hopeless at times. But slowly, her memories had resurfaced. She discovered who she really was, or, had been. She still finds some of her memories caught between reality and fiction. She’d done terrible things. So many people had been at her mercy, men, women, children.

        Those days were behind her now, but still apart of her. She’d been able to reconcile with who she’d been. Some nights were hard. Her past was a difficult thing to relive, but somehow, she knew she could never shake it. And now, with him here, how could she even try?

 

* * *

 

         

         He was the only good thing about being in the Red Room. The Asset, as they called him. Code Name: Winter Soldier. He used to be her trainer. He was a tough teacher, but an excellent one. His technique was flawless. The way he could snap someone’s neck in an instant, he would never miss a target, his ruthlessness amazed her.

         She enjoyed sparring with him. She could remember every scar, bruise and fractured bone she’d gotten while fighting him during training, but she’d given him his fair share as well. She had been surprised at how skilled he was. At, basically, everything, but he definitely excelled at hand to hand combat.   

         The window creaked loudly, and she heard faint cursing coming from outside. She looked over and saw him enter through the window. She noticed a slight limp in his step.

        “James, you’re hurt.”

        “I landed wrong during a fight on my last assignment,” he said as he took a few steps towards her and sat next to her on the bed.  

        “You’re supposed to report back to base after missions remember? They’ll be looking for you.” She didn’t even want to consider what would happen if they found them together.

        “Don’t worry about it. They won’t be expecting me back for another day or two.” What he meant was: I couldn’t wait to see you. She smiled and took his hand into hers. His cold metal touch contrasted with her warm flesh.

        She gave him a peck on the cheek and leaned back onto his chest and felt herself relaxing for the first time in a while. Just being in his presence made her calmer, she didn’t exactly get a lot of peace in this environment.

        She looked up at him and saw his strong jaw line and his dark eyes looking vacant. The moonlight made him look paler than usual. She could never guess what he was thinking about. It frustrated her sometimes, not being able to get a read on him.

        “What is it?” he asked when he caught her staring.

        Natalia smiled softly and looked away. “Nothing,” she knew not to pry. They sat in the dark, enjoying each others company.

        “They’re going to put me on ice soon,” James said. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again.” She knew it was something they’d have to deal with, but she didn’t like to think about it.

        “I know."

* * *

 

        The sound of a door being opened interrupted her reminiscing. Steve entered the room carrying a few bags. He saw her and glanced at the window, which was wide open.

        “What are you doing here?” He didn’t sound particularly surprised to see her, even though she had broken into his apartment.

        “You know why, Steve. Where is he?”

        “He’s in the guest room, resting,” Steve replied. He shut the front door with his foot and set the bags down on the couch.

        “You left him here _alone_?” He was obviously in a fragile state from when Steve and Sam had found him, so why would Steve leave him by himself, she thought.

        “Yeah, I didn’t really have a choice now did I? I needed to pick up some things for him and I really don’t think he’d enjoy having a babysitter.”

        “Oh please, Steve, he could’ve taken off again.”

        “I was gone for five minutes. Relax Natasha. I’m not going to let him get away again. Not that easily.” Steve went into the kitchen with a few bags and started to put things away.  

        “Have you talked to him?” She asked from the living room.

        “Yeah, he’s still shaken, but I think he's starting to remember bits and pieces, slowly.” Natasha wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She knew he was trying to sound casual, but she could hear the dejectedness in his voice.   

        She glanced over to the guest room, the door was open slightly, but she couldn’t see inside. She could feel her legs slowly start walking towards the room. She stopped in front of the door with her hand resting hesitantly on the doorknob.

        She opened the door to see him sitting on the edge of bed with his legs crossed, staring into space with an empty look on his face. He didn’t even look up. She noticed he was wearing one of Steve’s sweatpants and looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower.

        “James,” she said quietly.

        He didn’t answer. She took a seat on the bed next to him at a respectful distance. He looked at her abruptly, visibly tensed. Natasha saw the feral look in his eyes as he regarded her carefully as if she posed a threat. He relaxed, slightly, after he saw she didn’t mean harm.

        “Why am I here?” he asked after a long pause.

        “Am I the person you should be asking?” She told him. He was quiet after that. She felt his prickling energy in the air. He was quite obviously conflicted, not really sure what to do with himself. He was confused and was desperately trying to piece together who he used to be with whatever mish-mash of shattered memories he had been able to scavenge. Natasha could relate to what that felt like. After all, she, personally, had been down that road before.

        “I’m not supposed to be here.” He scowled. James (or Bucky, whoever he was now) had a habit of becoming as still as a statue when he was nervous or uncomfortable. Natasha remembered this mannerism of his when they were together in the Red Room.

        “You could’ve left. Why haven’t you?” she asked.                                                                          

        “I’ve been wondering that myself,” he said quietly. Bucky put his head in his hands. Natasha pulled up her knees close to her body and rested her arms on them. She stared at him, wondering what could be going through his mind. “I don’t know who I am,” he said after a long pause, he didn’t look up. She barely heard it.

        “You’re James Buchanan Barnes. Steve’s best friend-”

        “No! No... That’s not who I am anymore! I can’t… ” he said, louder this time. He looked up and Natasha saw his pupils dilating. “No…”

        “Then who are you now?” Natasha spoke softly. It hurt to see him like this.

        “I don’t know!” He was breathing hard.

        “James, relax. Hang on.” But he wasn’t paying attention. The glazed look took over again. “Can you hear me?” She tried again, but he was being tormented by the demons of his past.

        “Stop! I can’t!” He trembled. Natasha didn’t know what to do. She tried to touch his arm but the second she made contact his free hand whipped towards her and grabbed her wrist, crushing it. The cold metal touching her skin. “Don’t,” he said, his eyes were dark and calculating.

        “Let go.” She said, just as coldly.

* * *

 

        “Natalia! It’s me!” James pleaded. He tried to reach for her but she leaped away from him with flawless grace. He barely dodged the shot at his head with a T-33 Tokarev pistol. Her beautiful green eyes showed no recognition. No mercy either.

_But on Earth indifference in the least_

_We have to dread from man or beast_

        He had been in the lab getting his arm repaired from an earlier mission, standard operation assassination, rogue HYDRA operative, when he had heard her helpless screams. He tore away from the lab to find her until they sedated him, but not without fifteen losses as the strike team tried to intercept him. He woke up just as they were about to wipe him. But it was too late for her. To the extent of his knowledge, some politician didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, she was sent to Zelenograd on an inside assignment to keep him quiet. He tracked her for two weeks before he found her, on a rooftop, waiting for the extraction team. He had approached her. She didn’t know who he was.

        He was desperate. He was determined not to lose her. They wouldn’t separate them. It might’ve been suicide but he dropped his weapons and cautiously walked towards her hands out to show her he was unarmed.

        “Stop! Do you have a death wish? I could shoot you right now.” She glared at him fiercely. Snow fell lightly and rested beautifully in her red hair, sparkling in the moonlight. Her breath came out in small puffs, visible in the cold air.

        “You won’t. I know you Natalia. Please, please. Remember,” He spoke gently as if trying not to scare away a deer.

        “That’s not my name!” she shouted at him.

        “It is. Natalia Alianovna Romanov. A Black Widow. ”

        “I don’t know you! Shut up!” Her fingers trembled slightly as she adjusting her footing and got ready to shoot.

        “Listen to me. You know me. Fight it, what they’ve done to you” James said calmly while still slowly walking towards her.  He was terrified of losing her. She didn’t say anything but for a millisecond he noticed her expression change. It was quick, but he saw it. “Natalia. I know you’re in there.” She wavered for a moment before recomposing herself.

        “I don’t…” she tried to speak. James could see she was struggling to recover. She was close. He was almost within arm's length of her, when she pulled the trigger.

        James dove to her left, narrowly evading the bullet that would’ve otherwise pierced his skull. She whipped around and fired twice more. He tried to force the gun from her hand. They grappled for it, skirting close to the roof’s edge.

        “Nat! Drop the gun!”

        She flipped backwards and came around using the momentum to kick him in the chest sending him in the other direction. Before she had the chance to shoot again, he somersaulted back into the upright position and grabbed her arm and twisted to the right switching the angle of the gun, forcing Natalia’s steel to loosen. He was then able to jerk the gun backward causing her to cry out as her arm was bent painfully. He flung the gun over the side of the roof. Natalia’s eyes glinted murderously.  

        “This isn’t you.”

        “Like hell you would know.”

        “I do. Come back to me.”

        “God, you just don’t know when to fucking quit!”

        “Damn right.” She wasn’t going to back down and neither was he. “Look at me and tell me you don’t remember all the times you and I sparred. And kissed. And the nights we spent together.” She looked surprised. “We were on a mission in Moscow, you found stray cat. It started following us and I said we should just kill it,” she looked conflicted “But you wouldn’t let me, even though it would’ve blown our cover. You took it with you all the way to Yekaterinburg.”

        “Natalia, I love you. Remember me. Us,” James said. Natalia’s eyes fell downward, she stumbled, and the fog was broken. He reached out to steady her.

        “James. I’m…” He wrapped his arms around her, relieved. She put her head in the crook of his neck as she let the tears escape. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed quietly.

        Their time together was cut short as they heard hard footsteps, boots crunching on fresh snow and the unmistakable sound of a gun being reloaded. James cursed under his breath.

        “Of course they’d follow.” He turned back to Natalia. “What’s the quickest way out of here?”

        “West exit, North tower. We have to get to that building though.” She point to the roof of the building next to them. They sprinted towards the edge of the roof, wary of their pursuers, closing in.

        “Я тебя люблю моя дорогая.” He said as they jumped off the ledge.

* * *

 

_How should we like it were stars to burn_

_With a passion for us we could not return?_

        “What’s wrong with him?” Steve tried not to sound panicked and failed miserably. He’d lost his friend once. It wasn’t going to happen again. In a few quick strides, he was in front of Bucky, trying to understand what was happening to him. He crouched down onto his knees and took Bucky’s hand in his.

        As soon as Steve touched him, he flinched like he was being shocked and looked up.

        “Bucky,” as Steve said his name, Bucky scowled. “What’s going on, buddy?” A few tense moments passed.

        “Fuck everything.” He sighed, the scowl melting of his face.

* * *

 

        The next time Natasha saw him again was a week later at Avengers Tower, along with Steve, Tony and Bruce. He looked mildly uncomfortable and sat away on a couch away from the rest of the group as they discussed battle tactics.

        “You doing okay?” She asked him, taking a seat on the couch.

        “Still pretty messed up,” he said.

        He glanced at her. She saw the anguish in his eyes, the same eyes that used to regard her like she was a treasure, one that was dangerous as hell and needed to be handled carefully.

        “I knew you, didn’t I?”

        “You shot me in the shoulder on the bridge a few months ago.”

        “No, from before.” He was insistent.

        “You shot me in Odessa five years ago.”

        “Sorry.” He looked genuinely apologetic.

        And that would be the moment Tony decided to interrupt and be, well, Tony. “So, you’re basically like a cyborg, huh?” He started poking around Bucky’s arm. “I have to say, even for HYDRA, this craftsmanship is impressive,” he said.

        “Stark, you’re making him uncomfortable, cut it out,” Steve said. But Tony wasn’t paying attention, he was too engrossed in checking out the arm.

        “Hey, can I check the functions of this thing? If I could just get it to my lab…”

        “Tony, he doesn’t want you poking around him,” Natasha told him.

        “Fine, Jarvis, do a scan of the arm.”

        “Yes, sir,” Jarvis’s voice rang out.

        “I can’t help but have this feeling like, I know you from somewhere else...” Bucky turned back to Natasha after Tony left, half dragged away by Bruce. He tried to concentrate. He kept wringing his hands in his lap.

        “We were both assassins in the Red Room.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth either. Natasha didn’t know how he would take to finding out their relationship in the Red Room, one that wasn’t supposed to exist in the first place.

        “…You were… Natalia?” He looked as if he were on the verge of a breakthrough.

        “Back then, I was, yes.”

        “I…I…” He was really struggling now.

        “Don’t strain yourself. It’ll come back in time. I promise.” She tried to reassure him. He was frustrated and angry.

        So fucking angry.

_If equal affection cannot be,_

_Let the more loving one be me._

* * *

 

        “Tell me something.”

        “What?”

        “What the fuck is the meaning of this movie? It’s really dumb.”

        “It’s not dumb,” Natasha retaliated, earning some glares from other people in the audience, shushing them.

        “I mean, I’m halfway to falling asleep and it’s not at all realistic,” he said.

        “Find me a movie that _is_ realistic then.”

        “Fair point, but the direction and dialogue is awful.”

        “How would _you_ know, you’re an ex-soviet assassin, you don’t have any frame of reference. Like, when did you ever get to go out and watch movies?”

        “I may be an ex-assassin but I can tell when people talk like they’re at a court hearing or something,” he replied.

        “Well fine, if you hate it that much, we can leave.” Bucky pretended to consider it, to be polite since it was her idea to go see the movie, but it was obvious he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out.

        “Thank god!” someone two rows behind them exclaimed. Natasha gave him the finger.    

_Admirer as I think I am_

_Of stars that do not give a damn._

                                                                       

* * *

 

        Natasha and Bucky walked down the street, side by side. He was adjusting back into society well. Although many of his memories were still scrambled, he was being patient. Being around her helped a lot, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. He was starting to make sense of the ghosts in his head, feelings, smells, sounds, sometimes the process seemed excruciating but there’s nothing he could really do about that. Luckily, he hasn’t had an episode for five days now.

        It was dark, about 9:30pm, as the two walked home together in the cool night air.  Natasha was still holding the half empty popcorn bag in her hands.

        “I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while,” he started “What was it like in the… you know, Red Room?”

        “I try not to think about it too much. But, really, it was pretty simple,” Nothing was ever simple. He stared at her, silently telling her to go on. “I was there as a child, with other girls in the Black Widow program. The training was hard, punishment was sometimes severe and brutal. We always did as we were told It wasn’t until I was seventeen that they brought me a new instructor to show me the ropes. After training was finished, I was given assignments. Sometimes it was killing targets, or infiltrating corporations, or getting information from databases. I was good at what I did.” She had always done as she was supposed to. She looked over to Bucky and saw him deep in thought, no doubt trying to recount his time there as well.

        They reached Natasha’s apartment quickly enough.

        After a while he asked her, “How did I know you?”

        “I told you, we were both in the Red Room.”

        “No, it was more, I remember…” his eyes looked vacant. A few seconds passed when he finally spoke. “I trained you. I was your instructor wasn’t I?”

        “Yes. You were.”       

_I cannot, now I see them, say_

_I missed one terribly all day_

* * *

 

        It was a lazy day. The air was moist and heavy. Natasha limped back to her apartment, mud on her boots, dried blood on her clothes. She and Steve were called to handle a nasty scuffle downtown. She was tired and sore by the time she was able to get home. She opened the door to her apartment and was surprised to see Bucky standing in her living room with her back to her. He seemed agitated.

        “Hey,” she said as he turned around. He didn’t initially respond. She took off her muddy boots and left them near the door so she wouldn’t track mud into the house. Since he didn’t seem to willingly say anything yet, she opted to go change out of her clothes.

        After she had finished getting cleaned up, she came back wearing comfortable clothes and plopped down onto the couch and gestured for him to join her. Bucky hesitated before doing so.

        “So?” she said, prompting him to explain the reason behind his unexpected visit to her home. “You know, if you wanted to hang out, you could’ve called,” she teased when no explanation was forthcoming.

        “Everything’s really fucking confusing. It’s… just messed up today. I guess.” She couldn’t quite understand what he was saying. “I mean,-” his words were cut short as he doubled over, clutching his head.

        “James!” she grabbed his arm as if he was about to disappear

        “Fuck,” he managed to mutter. In a few seconds, he was more or less back to normal.

        “What happened?” she was concerned.

        “Nothing, I’ve been having headaches all day.”

        “Do you want me to get you some aspirin?” She asked, still holding his hand.

        “No, no. I’ll be fine.”

        “If you say so.”

        They were quiet for a while. He just kept looking down at his shoes. Natasha didn’t know what to say, it would help if she knew why he was really here. It didn’t exactly seem like a random visit to a friend’s place.

        “I know about us.” He said after what seemed like forever.

        “What?” she didn’t know what that meant.

        “I’ve been remembering.”

* * *

 

        All she could feel was his breath on her neck, their hands intertwined together, bodies meshed in perfect harmony. Their pasts forgotten, they were irrelevant at the moment. The blood on their hands and scars on their bodies were gone.

        Her fiery, red hair splayed across his chest, with his cold, metal arm entangled in it. She could feel his heart pounding rhythmically.

        “Natalia,” He whispered into her hair, breathing in its scent.

        “Shh.” She didn’t want their rare, but blissful, time together to end, no matter how inevitable. No nightmares or wracking sobs in the dead of night. No terrifying flashbacks of the dim glow of a laboratory, of blood spilled in snow, of the people at their mercy. No screaming. No HYDRA agents to tear them apart. Not yet at least.

        “Natalia, you know I can’t stay for much longer,” he said softly, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb, the blood and flesh one.

        “I know.” He had to go before they got caught. God knows what would happen to them then. Wiped again, probably. Or worse. There’s always something worse that could happen to them.

        He started to get up from her grasp, away from promises of love and safety. Sounds childish, huh? For assassins like them, love was rare enough, but would there ever be safety? In a whole lifetime, they hadn’t found it. After all, they were just weapons.  The soldier put on his boots and jacket and lastly, the array of weapons that he kept hidden in his clothes.

        It ached to watch him leave. In their situations, who knew when they’d see each other again, days, months, years? She thought about this every time he jumped gracefully out her window, moonlight glinting on the metal arm, goodbyes still barely on their lips.

        Я тебя люблю” she whispered, even though he was already gone.

        Natalia couldn’t sleep. Not while he was away. Dawn will break in a few hours, she thought. Slowly, she got up from her bed and made her way into the kitchen to get coffee. It was snowing outside in a way that can almost be described as violent. Russian winters were always brutal. She stared out the window into the haze of snow falling, falling, falling.

_Were all stars to disappear or die,_

_I should learn to look at an empty sky_

* * *

 

        The sound of rain was the only thing that could be heard throughout the house. Natasha lay in her bed, the lumpy mattress made her back hurt. She’d been meaning to get a new one but her occupation didn’t give her too much room for downtime. Even though it was late, she was very much wide awake. She’d been staring at her cracked ceiling for hours. She couldn’t help but drift back to their conversation that evening.

        “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” He was angry. She knew he had every right to be.

        “It was in the past. We weren’t supposed to be together.”

        “I’ve been trying so hard to remember who I was, who I am, and you knew! You could have told me!” He stood up and was pacing.

        “It wouldn’t have been the same, James. And you know that.”

        “It would have helped.” He stopped pacing and looked directly at her. After a while he asked her, “Did you… Did you really love me?”

        “I did,” She said, raw honesty in her voice. _I still do_.

        He drew in a breath and couldn’t look at her again. He was conflicted, and didn’t know what to do, finding his past was harder than he’d anticipated. He had left after that.

* * *

 

        She went to Steve’s apartment three days later.

        “Bucky didn’t come home on Thursday.” To be honest, she wasn’t all that surprised. She understood that he wanted his space, to recuperate and get his head together. Make sense of what happened. “Did something happen between you two?”

        “Don’t worry about it Steve, he’ll turn up. He probably just wants to be alone right now.” She could tell he was sceptical, but he didn’t have a choice but to trust he hadn’t run off again. They sat in silence for a bit. “Did you take my advice about Sharon?” she asked him with a knowing smile.

        “We went out a few times,” he replied.

        “Oh, come on, stop being so vague. Do you like her?”

        He gave her a small, bashful smile. “Yeah, I mean, I guess. We had a nice time.”

        “Did you make a move?”

        “I guess that depends on what you mean.”

        “God Steve, you’re hopeless.”

        “That’s what I keep telling him.” They turned to see Sam in the doorway.

        “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you to be back until tomorrow,” Steve said

        “Yeah, I got off earlier than I thought. Thought I’d drop by. How’s the brainwashed assassin?”

        “We haven’t heard from him in a few days actually,” Natasha said

        “Don’t tell me he ran away again.”

        “Why, are you worried Sam?”

        “I spent three months helping Capsicle over there find him, don’t wanna have to do it again,” Sam scoffed.

        “No, he just needed some time to himself. I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” Natasha told him. She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. She didn’t want Steve to worry about Bucky being missing.

        “Hey Steve, did you save me some Pop Tarts?”

        “Ran out yesterday.”

        “Man, why do think I came over here?” he pouted.

        Natasha stood up and picked up her jacket. “Great party, but I have to get home now."

        “What's the rush?" Sam said from Steve's kitchen, no doubt looking for compensation for his Pop Tarts.

        “Well, I can’t miss watching Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, now can I?” she joked. Steve chuckled at that.

        “Bye,” Sam called as she headed out. She gave him a small wave in response.

        The chilly air hit her as Natasha stepped outside. Now, if only she could remember where the hell she parked. After wandering around a bit she found her car and was thankful for some shelter against the howling wind. The street lights were just turning on as the sun went down.

* * *

 

            Natasha had arrived at home just before 8:00pm. She stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection, wondering how this life had come to be hers. She was about to turn in for the night but after years of training, she knew when someone was behind her. She turned around and saw Bucky standing there.

        “You know, the hobo look really doesn’t suit you,” she told him.

        He didn’t say anything, instead he walked towards her until they were face to face. She got a clear view of those familiar blue eyes that she loved so much.

        He put a hand on her back, pulling her closer and placed the other one on her cheek when he kissed her. Even after decades, his lips felt the same. She found her hands tangled in his soft, brown hair. The kiss was chaste and gentle, like an apology of sorts.

        They held each other even after they’d pulled away. She rested her head on his shoulder with her arms around him. Natasha didn’t know how long they’d stayed like that but she didn’t want to stop just yet.  

        They lay together, just as they had, so long ago. Nothing could be heard but hushed breaths, pounding hearts and a whisper.

        “Don’t leave me.”

        “Never again.”

_And feel its total dark sublime,_

_Though this might take me a little time._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this fic. Feel free to leave comments, prompts and constructive criticism. 
> 
> The poem used in this fic was The More Loving One by W. H Auden


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